


A Craving For Happiness

by CantStopImagining



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/F, Smut, a little hint of liv/alex, alex cabot is a tease in every single timeline sorry i don't make the rules, fin and amanda and nick and liv are all also in this but not really enough to tag them, season 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-02-08 11:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12863892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantStopImagining/pseuds/CantStopImagining
Summary: It progresses into coffee with just the right amount of creamer, left silently on desks or pressed into hands in the elevator; into knocking on eachother's doors before they go home at night, just to check the other is leaving at a reasonable time. It’s not quite friendship, but it’s something, lingering on the borderline.or, Casey and Alex share SVU.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think I must be crazy starting ANOTHER story but I actually wrote 6,000 words of this as a one-shot before realising I should probably split it into two chapters... This is set around s13, and breaks canon a little tiny bit. If you're reading 'Silence' then this story fits into the same universe (which I guess is a bit of a spoiler!) but you defs don't need to have read that to read this as its a prequel but also stands alone. I've rated it for the sake of the next chapter... ;) which is almost entirely written so should be up next week.

It’s March when she arrives, a box of knickknacks in one arm, her attache and a table lamp in the other. It’s a recipe for disaster, her walking into an elevator doing some kind of bizarre balancing act, and that’s why Alex leaps to help her. Not because of any other reason.

(Though the guilt of how abrasive she’d been, how she’d never apologised or thanked her, still lingers there in the back of her mind).  
Casey stubbornly doesn’t want help, but when she tilts the box the wrong way and the top file comes hurtling out, Alex grabs it without a second thought. Giving in, Casey lets her carry the lamp.

“I didn’t know you were back,” Casey tells her, on the walk to her new office (she almost turns the wrong way, back towards her old one, before she catches herself), high heels click-clacking against the polished floors, the two pairs in time with each other. She’s guarded, doesn’t let Alex know what she means by that statement, her face and voice neutral.

“I almost wasn’t,” Alex says, and she leaves it at that. There aren’t many she wants to share the horrors she’s seen in the last two years with, least of all Casey Novak.

Casey seems unsure of herself as she drops her box of possessions onto the oak desk, but by the time she turns to look at Alex, her jaw’s set, her shoulder’s back, and she’s resolute, an imitation of the woman Alex met six years ago, only very slightly crumbling at the edges.

 _Good. Good for her_ , Alex thinks, as she puts the table lamp down, and turns to leave. _Don’t let them break you apart. They aren’t worth it._

“Maybe we could do coffee, some time,” Casey says, as an afterthought, and Alex almost believes that she imagined it. 

Still, she turns back, smiles.

“Sure. I’d like that.” And she would, she realises, feeling sort of puzzled by it.

Casey smiles, looking relieved, if only for a second, before she returns to organising her desk.

-

It’s May by the time their schedules fall into alignment. Of course, their paths cross before that; Alex looks over her cases, occasionally passes her in the elevator, or on her way into court. She sits in the back of the courtroom during one of Casey’s trials, and watches, only realising she’s holding her breath when Casey meets her gaze, across the room, and frowns, just slightly.

“Checking up on me?” she asks, afterward, following Alex down the front steps of the building.

“Of course not,” Alex replies, indignantly.

Folding her arms across her, Casey’s expression is stony as she regards Alex.

“Okay,” Casey eventually relents, turning and starting to walk away.

Alex waits a beat, before following, “wait, Casey… how about that coffee?”

She’s almost surprised when she agrees. From the look on her face, so is Casey.

 

They both by-pass the busy Starbucks opposite Foley Square, dipping into a privately owned coffee house further down. Alex is faintly impressed that they both - supposedly - frequent the same establishment, but haven’t bumped into each other there before. Then again, she usually only pops into Blues to grab a cup to go, or to go over files. She rarely pays attention to their other patrons.

They order their coffee. Alex watches Casey pour creamer and sweetener into her cup, before striding over to a table near the back. She walks with more confidence outside of the court room than she does in it.

“How long do you have before you need to be back in court?”

Casey drops her briefcase onto a seat and slides into the one next to it, checking her wrist watch, “I have to meet with Olivia in half an hour.”

“I won’t take too much of your time, then,” Alex says, holding her coffee cup with both hands, “how are you doing?”

Raising her eyebrows, Casey folds her hands into her lap, “so you are checking up on me?”

 _Not in any professional or official capacity,_ Alex finds herself thinking, but she realises that yeah, she is checking up on her. But only because she’s worried. Only because… she likes her. She knows what it’s like to come back to this job, this all-consuming, emotionally draining job where you see horrific things almost every day, and don’t have any time to process any of it.

She’s only worried, she realises, because she’s feeling it all herself.

“I’m not. I’m just making conversation,” Alex says, instead.

It’s awkward. They talk shop, but not in any way that is actually meaningful, a conversation that seems to loop back in on itself endlessly, with very little actually being said. Eventually, Casey makes her excuses and drains her cup, leaving before Alex can think to follow her.

Still, it’s a start.

-

They pair up for a case for the first time in June. Not because Casey isn’t capable; actually, it’s Alex who asks her for help. Her caseload is horrendous, and the case is high profile, the kind she needs to be able to give her full attention to, but can’t. So, she hands it over to Casey.

She doesn’t miss the look of surprise on the redhead’s face, sitting at her desk gazing down at the thick manilla folder that Alex has slid across to her. It’s the first time, Alex realises later, that she’s been in her office since that first day.

“I’d like to second chair,” Alex says, watching Casey mull over the case details.

When she looks up, her expression is unreadable. She tilts her head just ever so slightly, like she’s trying to read her, or read the situation. Like she thinks it might be a trick.

“Don’t trust me on my own?” Casey wonders aloud, and Alex watches the muscles in her throat contract as she swallows, her defences up.

“Not at all. But I’d still like to oversee this one, given I’ve been on it since the beginning,” she smiles, “I’m invested in the outcome.”

Casey looks at her like she’s still not quite sure whether to trust her, but relents, smiling slowly, “we’ll share it, then.”

To begin with, working alongside Casey is frustrating. Not because she isn’t professional, or thorough, or hard-working, or any of the other things that make a good attorney, but purely because her style is different. It takes a lot of getting used to, working alongside somebody in a unit where she’s always worked alone. And Casey is clearly defensive about her work, too. It isn’t that she’s short with Alex, more that she’s… hesitant. Alex gets the impression she still isn’t 100% sure that Alex hasn’t been sent to spy on her. She’s protective of her own notes, and their brainstorming sessions often fall flat.

Despite all of this, Alex is impressed by her. Not that that should be surprising. Whilst she hasn’t been checking up on her, _per say_ , she has read over some of her cases, back when Alex had the luxury of free time (she’s forgotten what the inside of her apartment looks like at this point, she’s spent so little time in it). She’s a damn good attorney. It isn’t a surprise that the DA’s office welcomed her back. Better yet, they make a decent team, once they’re both on the same page.

As the trial moves closer, Alex all but falls asleep at her desk. She’s wearing herself thin; she knows that. She has nothing outside of her job, lately, no reason to head home at the end of the night. Sharing her caseload with Casey has taken some of the pressure off, but work is still work, and cases pile up on top of each other, and even when they don’t, she doesn’t feel much like sitting alone in her apartment, going over the same files she could be looking at at her desk.

It’s so late that the lights in the hallways are off. Even the cleaning staff have long since left, leaving the smell of bleach in their wake, a faint citrus smell that Alex actually found herself missing during WPP, but now loathes. She glances at the clock, and yawns, almost on reflex, berating herself for staying so late. Again.

Her heels squeak against the newly polished floors as she heads for the elevator. She hates being alone in this big, old building, still doesn’t feel entirely safe even after years of therapy and treatment for PTSD. She flicks a light switch on, waiting while the different rows of lights slowly flicker into life.

Round the corner, Alex notices another light still on.

She considers ignoring it, leaving it, continuing on home like she hasn’t seen it. But she knows that she can’t. She knows immediately whose office that is, even before she gets close enough to see that, yes, it’s a table lamp still on, and, yes, in that sliver of open door, she can see a figure hunched over their desk.

Knocking, gently, Alex sees Casey’s head shoot up from the desk, sees her blinking blearily, trying to work out where she is. Something inside of Alex tugs, a warmth spilling through her that she vaguely recognises as affection, before batting it aside.

“Yes?” Casey’s voice is thick with sleep, lower, rougher than usual.

“Hey,” Alex says, watching Casey visibly flinch as she realises who has found her, and trying not to feel offended by it, “I’m heading out and I saw your light was still on. Want a ride home?”

Considering the offer, Casey frowns, pushing her hair back from her face. Alex doesn’t expect her to accept, isn’t really sure why she even asked. 

She’s surprised when Casey nods, mumbling a “yeah, okay.”

They drive in silence, but when they eventually arrive outside of Casey’s apartment building - nice neighbourhood, Alex acknowledges - Casey says a soft thank you, and for the first time, the smile she offers Alex seems genuine.

-

It progresses into coffee with just the right amount of creamer, left silently on desks or pressed into hands in the elevator; into knocking on eachother's doors before they go home at night, just to check the other is leaving at a reasonable time. It’s not quite friendship, but it’s something, lingering on the borderline. Professionally, they bounce off each other like a well oiled machine, and when Olivia tells her that she’d been worried about Casey coming back, Alex can’t help but be defensive.

“We make a good team,” she says, nonchalantly, after Liv questions her. And she leaves it at that, even though she catches the way Liv raises her eyebrows, the corner of her mouth turning up ever so slightly.

Olivia Benson knows her better than anyone, after all. At least, she used to.

-

She’s struggling to balance two plastic cups of lemonade and her attache, the spikes of her heels sinking into the soft turf under her feet, August sun beating down hard on her head. In a careful juggling act, she moves the cups to one hand, attache over her shoulder, raises her palm to her forehead, shielding her eyes as they follow the figure a little way ahead.

Casey’s hair is in a ponytail, tucked under a navy baseball cap. Her legs look impossibly long under a loose fitting jersey and cycling shorts, heels traded in for sneakers. Alex watches her swing the bat once, twice, three times, each time catching the ball square on, hitting it to the back of the cage, where it bounces off and onto the ground, before she approaches.

“Thought I’d find you here,” Alex says, catching Casey's attention before another ball can come hurting towards her.

Her lips twitch up into a faint smile as she gestures for the ball pitcher to be stopped. When she turns to face Alex, she pulls the cap from her head, runs her fingers through messy, slightly curled hair that’s come loose, wipes sweat from her forehead.

“You play?” Casey asks, but it’s obvious from the teasing look on her face that she knows the answer.

Still, Alex laughs, shakes her head, “I need your signature on the Murdock files,” she pauses, holds out a cup, “I brought lemonade.”

That makes Casey laugh, accepting the drink and taking a long suck on the straw. Alex has to drag her eyes away from watching the muscles in her throat as she swallows, can’t explain why her cheeks start to go pink, an automatic reaction that she pushes aside immediately.

“Mmmm,” Casey hums, nodding her appreciation, “okay, since you’re here, you’re at least trying a couple of balls.”

Alarmed, Alex shakes her head, scrunching up her nose in disapproval, “no, c’mon Case… I can’t…”

“You can, but you’re taking off those shoes,” Casey teases, before turning her attention to the kid operating the pitching machine, “just a sec, she’s gonna try a couple.”

“Casey,” Alex tries, rolling her eyes, embarrassed, but Casey’s already taking her attache from her, setting their lemonades down in the corner of the cage. 

Begrudgingly, Alex takes off her heels, the tarmac hot under her stocking-clad feet, and takes the bat Casey offers her. The object is foreign in her hands, and she knows she looks ridiculous in her pencil skirt and blouse, wielding this bat, not even pretending to know what to do with it.  
Casey moves behind her, guides her into position, her hands firm but gentle as they move Alex’s along the bat. She stands close, and warmth radiates off of her. Alex lets herself relax into it, Casey’s hands covering hers over the bat, moving them in unison. The ball connects with the bat, not quite square on, but near-enough, and glides through the air. Alex can’t help but laugh, craning her neck to look at Casey, who is grinning at her. She lets go of Alex’s hands, leaves her to hit the next ball by herself. Alex immediately mourns the loss. It’s not quite as fluid, but she still strikes the ball, hitting it into the corner of the cage.

“Are you _sure_ you haven’t played before?” Casey asks, and Alex turns to look at her, watching her sipping on her lemonade, “you hit like a pro.”

“We had a tennis court when I was growing up… it’s much the same.”

“Mmmhmmm,” Casey teases, but she’s still grinning as Alex steps back into her shoes, retrieving her own cup of lemonade.

-

Alex figures they must be friends after that. You don’t buy lemonade for people who aren’t your friends, and people who aren’t your friends don’t tease you into trying out a new sport. And from then on, other little hints of friendship seem to seep in: shared lunches and conversations about life outside of work, and walks to grab coffee, and teasing remarks about ex-boyfriends. When they both arrive at the SVU headquarters, laughing about some stupid quip Casey made on the way over there, and Alex meets Olivia’s eye, sees her carefully raise an eyebrow, she knows that she may be in too deep, but she can’t exactly _stop it._

And then it’s not just friendship, it’s starting to feel like something more, and she’s been down this road so many times before, but not with a woman (only _once_ and she’d made such a spectacular mess of that that she doesn’t want to think about it) she doesn’t know what to do with it. If Casey feels it too, then she’s good at hiding it. Despite the rumours - and she’s heard them, heard them before she even knew who Casey Novak was, only knew the name by reputation - Casey hasn’t made any indication that she’d even be interested in _anything_ , but Alex can feel the attraction, the _want_ building in her, the more they spend time together. Even if it is one sided.

Not that she plans on doing anything about it.

-

“I assume you're comin’ to Casey's birthday drinks?” Fin asks, after they’ve finished going through case details one afternoon in September. 

Alex frowns, “is _Casey_ going to Casey’s birthday drinks?” She can’t remember the last time the redhead joined them at the bar, if ever. Not that Alex goes all that frequently herself. More often than not, they’re both still working on paperwork when the detectives are making a bee-line for the bar.

Still, the fact they’ve remembered Casey’s birthday, that they’ve made plans to celebrate with her… Alex can’t help but love that. She knows coming back to the unit wasn’t the easiest thing Casey’s ever done, that she and Olivia butted heads a few times before she settled back in.

“Liv says she’s handlin’ it,” Fin says, shrugging, “be good to have you both in one place.”

“I can assure you we are both in the same place fairly often,” Alex says, smirking, but inside she’s panicking, racing through gift options. How could she not know that it’s Casey’s birthday? She knows it isn’t a big deal, that Casey won’t care, but she still feels awful.

“So you’ll be at Joe’s? 9 tonight.”

She smiles, “I’ll be there.”

-

When Alex stops by her office on the way to her own, Casey’s on the phone. She smiles at Alex, waves her in, continuing to talk animatedly on the phone. It’s not a personal call; she’s discussing a case, arguing with another lawyer from the sounds of things. Alex sits down on the couch across from her desk, watching her. She’s been doing that a lot lately.

If Fin hadn’t mentioned her birthday, Alex would never have figured it out. There’s no flowers on Casey’s desk, no stack of cards. There’s still nothing personal at all, she realises, nothing to tell this office apart from any of the others, besides the names on the certificates on the wall. No photographs, no pot plants, no softball memorabilia. It’s like Casey could leave any time, and there wouldn’t even be a trace of her besides lipstick marks on a plain blue mug, scrawled handwriting on a legal pad.

Eventually, Casey hangs up, rolling her eyes in Alex’s direction.

“Remind me again why we do this? It’s like talking to a brick wall.”Alex knows that feeling well.

“For ‘justice’,” she says, making air quotes with her fingers.

Casey chuckles, “ah yes… that,” her gaze drifts downwards, the softest smile on her lips, then she looks back up at Alex, “what can I do for you, anyway?”

Alex feels a flush begin to crawl up her neck, despite the fact she knew this was coming. She’s never been particularly apologetic about giving people gifts, whether that means flowers, or bottles of wine, or just picking up an extra pastry on her way into work and leaving it on somebody’s desk; but she suddenly feels self-conscious about this one. Anxious, even.

“I got _you_ something, actually,” she says, skin prickled with heat, hoping that Casey can’t see it.

Casey frowns, but she’s still smiling, “oh?”

“It’s… I just saw it and it made me laugh and think of you… uh…” Alex takes the package - a big, square box - out of her purse, scrunches her nose up, “it’s… silly really, but, uh… Fin told me it’s your birthday.”

“Ah, right,” Casey says, biting her lip, nodding.

Alex finally hands the box over, sure her whole face must be crimson by now. It had seemed like a good idea when she’d seen it, but now that she’s actually handing it over…

Casey opens the box, lifts the item out. It can’t take longer than a few seconds, but to Alex it feels like a lifetime. As soon as she’s pulled back the tissue paper, she starts to laugh, a deep throaty laugh that Alex hasn’t heard before. It makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

“Oh my god,” she pulls the white jersey with the thin navy stripes out of the box, holds it up against herself, still laughing, tracing her fingers over the writing across the front, her name in cursive.

“It’s like the one in Disneyland…”

Casey nods, chuckling, “Casey At The Bat… the little cafe. I remember. My parents took a picture of me next to that ugly little statue when I was a kid. Oh, man, it’s perfect.”

“I figured you can never have too many softball jerseys right?” Alex explains, lamely, still embarrassed. It’s such a small, silly gift, but she’d had to rush around to get one in time, calling in favours, pulling strings. And it really isn’t that big a deal. She could have bought her something much nicer, but this… this she’d known Casey would like. And it felt somehow more special, more… intimate, after seeing Casey in her softball gear, batting at the cages a few weeks ago. Alex isn’t stupid, she knows she’s not the first person to see her practice, but it still feels somehow like… something they shared together.

“I don’t get to the cages nearly as much as I’d like to anymore,” Casey admits, folding the shirt neatly back into the box, “but maybe this will force me to find time.”

She closes the space between them, leaning across to press her lips to Alex’s cheek. It’s such a strange, unfamiliar moment between the two of them that Alex can’t help but smile to herself, feeling warmth spread through her again, as it does so often lately. As if she hasn’t kissed countless women on the cheek.

“Thank you, Alex, it was really sweet of you to think of me,” Casey says, gently, sitting back down at her desk with a stupid little smile on her face.

“You’re welcome,” Alex breathes, standing up to leave. Then, “Happy birthday.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some fairly heavy smut ahead in this chapter, so I guess if that's not your cup of tea... don't read it. I was going to post this as two separate chapters so that the smut could be self-contained but that would have meant two very short chapters. There should be a third chapter at some point but I'm going to be very busy over the next few weeks, and I have to prioritise updating MFTS instead at this point. Also I just had to sneak some Casey and Amanda friendship into here - I really wish we'd have seen them interact more cos I think they'd have a lot in common.
> 
> I'm still fairly scared of posting smut so I hope I did okay.

She’s a little late getting to Joe’s, her court appointment running over, the queue at Blue’s taking longer than she’d expected, and then the paper work, and phone calls, and the walk over… so Alex is practically running up the street, heels click-clacking against the sidewalk. Not that it matters that she’s late, it’s just….irrational really. But it’s 9.40 before she pushes open the heavy door to the bar and scans the place for familiar faces. She’s still skeptical that they’ll have even managed to get Casey to leave the office in time to be here.

But, as Alex rounds a corner, there she is, sitting between Rollins and Benson in a corner booth, the boys lined up on the other side, her cheeks flushed, hair mussed, laughing about something or other, two pitchers of beer - one half-full, one empty - in front of them, and Alex softens immediately. She walks casually over to them, shrugging out of her jacket and perching on the cushioned seat next to Liv, John immediately pushing a full glass of beer in her direction.

“Sorry I’m late,” Alex says, gratefully taking the proffered beer (though she’s more of a wine drinker) and beaming at the assortment of people she loves, “cheers.”

They clank glasses, Amaro excuses himself to use the bathroom. Casey leans across Liv to offer Alex a warm smile, and Alex can tell from the look in her eyes that she’s already had more than her fair share of beer. She looks the happiest Alex thinks she’s ever seen her though.

“We were just reminiscing over the time during which we thought you were dead,” John says, his eyes glittering in the dark light of the bar.

“Okay, that’s not how it was,” Olivia steps in, patting Alex’s hand where it rests next to her drink, “we were just sharing some of our favourite baby Casey stories.”

“May I remind you, I was 25, not 2,” Casey chimes in, looking embarrassed, running her fingers through the front of her hair, “and for the record, I thought you all hated me for the first six months at least.”

“Oh, me too, when I first arrived,” adds Amanda, smiling, “y’all are more intimidating than a bunch o’ high school seniors to a middle schooler.”

“We didn’t _hate you_ ,” Olivia tells Casey, “we just…”

“It was complicated,” Munch agrees.

“…we disagreed on a lot of things…”

“Plus, we’d just lost Cabot…”

“Yeah, and Alex was like family to us.”

Casey screws her face up, squeezing her eyes closed, “okay okay alright I don’t need to hear anymore. I know I was freaking awful, alright? Can we just agree that we’ve all improved with age?”

“Except for Alex,” Fin says, grinning.

“Oh yeah, Alex was always perfect,” Olivia agrees, winking at her, her hip butting into hers.

“Hey, it’s my birthday! Surely I should get to come out from the shadow of the great Alexandra Cabot for this one day?”

Alex feels her cheeks going redder and redder with every passing moment, hiding her face in her hands, groaning. Maybe embarrassment is something she’s just going to have to start getting used to. 

Olivia throws an arm over her shoulders, pulls her close, “we love you both and we’re very lucky to have _both_ of you,” she says, ever the diplomatic one.

“I’ll drink to that,” Casey agrees, raising her glass.

-

Waiting for her round of drinks, Alex perches on a stool at the bar. The night’s beginning to wind down - Amaro’s already gone, Munch following not far behind - the bar emptying out bit by bit. It’s been a surprisingly nice evening, drinking with friends, reminiscing, getting to know the new members of the squad. Lately, she’s been so wrapped up in work, she hasn’t made an effort to do much outside of the office. This is a reminder of everything she’s been missing. She’d vowed - first when she’d come back from witness protection, and again after the Congo - to spend more time with the people she loves, to not let herself get back into that routine. But she hasn’t stuck to her word.

Alex drums her fingers on the bar-top, watching the bartender pour their drinks. She barely notices someone slink into the stool beside hers, until they’re leaning against her, warm body pressed against hers.

Casey’s a little drunk - her eyes are glassy, a soft, dopey smile on her face - but Alex is glad she’s enjoying herself. She thinks they all deserve to let their hair down, but perhaps Casey most of all. She’s been so tense since returning to the ADA’s office, as if she's just waiting to mess up again. It’s good to see her relax.

“Thought you might need help carrying,” she says, leaning forward on her forearms.

“ _You_ might need carrying _home_ , you keep going,” Alex teases.

Casey chuckles, low and throaty, and leans in close to her, “you offering?”

The hairs on the back of Alex’s neck stand on end, and as she gazes into Casey’s eyes, pupils dark and wide as saucers, she thinks they might, for once, be on the same page. 

But then the redhead laughs, and leans away, and Alex thinks she must have imagined it.

Amanda saunters over to them, also looking a little wobbly on her feet, and grins at Casey, looping an arm around her shoulders. It’s an innocent gesture, but it makes Alex’s jaw clench, something bitter rising in her throat.

“Guess we’re missin’ that mornin’ run tomorrow, counsellor,” Amanda laughs, squeezing the redhead’s shoulders.

“Mmm, maybe a rain check,” Casey agrees, and despite never being one for personal contact, she doesn’t flinch away from the detective’s grip, just chuckles when Amanda makes a big deal of shrugging her shoulders animatedly, before heading off in the direction of the bar’s facilities.

The bartender sets out their tray of drinks, but Alex’s attention is elsewhere.

“Didn’t realise you and Detective Rollins were such good friends,” she finds herself blurting, sounding more than a little aggrieved, her usual cool, calm persona completely removed by alcohol.

Casey’s lips twitch into a smirk, her eyes scanning Alex’s briefly, before she shrugs her shoulders, reaching for one of the drinks they’ve just been served, “we have a lot in common,” she says, simply, sucking on the straw of the drink, and then adding, flirtatiously: “why? Are you jealous?”

Swallowing thickly, Alex shakes her head. She can feel the fuzz of alcohol clouding her usually rational brain, despite having not drunk as much as Casey, or Amanda. If she’d deducted that she was imagining things before, now she’s certain she has to be. There’s no way Casey is actually flirting with her. But all the signs are there… the way she is smiling against her straw, leaning forward on her elbows like that, the mischievous glint in her eyes. Her language. Even inebriated, it’s purposeful. She is a lawyer, after all.

“So what if I am?” Alex says, slowly.

Casey places her drink down on a cardboard coaster at the bar, and leans across until her breath is warm and sweet against Alex’s ear, “you needn’t be.”

-

The taxi-ride from the bar to Alex’s apartment is a blur. She doesn’t even remember leaving, or saying goodbye (did they say goodbye? She hopes so), just spilling into a cab with Casey giggling against her, and then Casey’s hand on her knee, and that perfect mouth of hers against the line of Alex’s jaw, her cheek, her ear, her throat. She’s barely able to get her key to slot into the front door lock, her hands are shaking so much, and once they’re inside, she’s barely got the door closed before she’s pressing Casey against it, hands finding their way into her hair, lips crashing into each other. It’s like a wild-fire spreads between them, flames licking away hungrily as they tear each other’s clothes away, hands desperate to make purchase on any available area of skin they can find.

When Alex slides her hand to the clasp of Casey’s bra, undoing it with practiced ease, Casey laughs against her mouth, and she pulls away, frowning.

“You did that so easily,” Casey says, huskily, “you’ve done this before.”

 _Haven’t you?_ she wants to ask, but stops herself.

As she leads Casey through to the bedroom, the motion-activated lights flick on, illuminating first her sitting area, and then the large master bedroom with its beautiful view of the city. Casey giggles - Alex is only just getting used to the concept of _Casey Novak giggling_ , and now she’s witnessed it twice - watching the lights and wrinkling her nose.

“Let me guess, your TV is voice activated,” she murmurs, leaning in close to Alex.

Alex doesn’t answer, instead nudging her towards the bed, nipping at her earlobe, moving down to her collarbone as Casey sinks into the mattress, one hand looping into blonde hair, the other gripping tightly onto Alex’s waist. Alex kisses her left breast, cautiously, gently, and then again, grazing her teeth over her nipple, a fresh pool of arousal building between her legs as Casey sighs against her. Alex pushes her further up the bed, crawling over her on her hands and knees, and leaning down to capture her lips in another feverish kiss. God, she wants this, so much more than she’d even realised.

Casey reaches up for her, a hand loosely cupping Alex’s breast through the lace of her bra, and Alex gasps, dragging her hips down over Casey’s. Even through their underwear, the contact makes them both shiver, Alex barely biting back a moan. Casey’s thumb has found the hardened nub of her nipple, through her bra, and is rubbing in soft circles, driving her insane. She needs more. Alex kneels upright, reaching behind herself and unhooking her bra, before tossing it aside. Sitting up, Casey inches closer to her, pressing a soft kiss to the skin just bellow her breast, and then gazing up at her, her eyes wild and dark.

Taking the lead, Alex slides a hand under Casey’s underwear, at first just gently brushing over her, continuing to kiss the swell of her breasts, the valley between them, and then meeting Casey’s eyes. The redhead is already trembling under her, silently begging, and Alex keeps her eyes locked on her face as she slips a digit into her. They moan practically in unison, and Casey’s hips buck against her, warmth quickly enveloping her hand. She adds a second finger, bracing Casey against her, one hand firm against the small of her back. They move in time with each other, quickly building a rhythm. Alex can feel Casey’s nails digging into the soft flesh of her side, but she finds she doesn’t mind, almost enjoys the slight tinge of pain. Then she shifts, moving so that her hand is cupping the weight of Alex’s breast, kneading, rough, finger nails scraping over the tender skin there instead, and Alex hisses. Yes, pain is definitely good.

Keeping up the rhythm of her fingers, Alex kisses down her body, Casey’s stomach muscles trembling and contracting under her attention, scraping her teeth over a prominent hipbone, and then soothing it with a kiss. Casey’s practically begging her, mumbling softly, cursing as Alex’s fingers curl inside her. Putting all her weight onto her knees, stilling her hand, Alex tugs at Casey’s underwear. It’s awkward, but when Casey lifts her hips, she manages to pull them down, the lacy fabric hooked around Alex’s arm. She pushes back inside, watching Casey’s face intently, holding her gaze before the redhead’s eyes slip closed. Steadying herself with one hand digging into the mattress, she dips her head, pressing an open mouthed, hot kiss just above where her fingers disappear into soft flesh. Casey gasps, lifting her hips off the bed.

“Al—-ex,” she grinds out, and Alex can’t help but smirk, moving her mouth higher, kissing the soft swell at the base of her belly. Casey makes a whining sound, the hand in Alex’s hair tightening its grip, “please.”

Alex withdraws completely, ignoring Casey’s sigh of frustration, and removing her underwear fully. The first swipe of her tongue is gentle, teasing, and Casey all but yanks her head closer, forcing more contact. The unexpected rough movement sends a ripple of heat through Alex, the knot of arousal between her legs becoming almost unbearable, but she ignores it, dipping her tongue more fully into Casey’s wet heat. She has to swallow a moan of her own as she continues, Casey’s fingers curling in her hair, growing impossibly tighter as Alex’s mouth moves to where she most wants her. The guttural, low noise Casey makes, combined with the feeling of her, the taste of her… it’s almost enough to send Alex over the edge without even being touched. She presses her tongue flat inside her, lapping at the same rhythm her fingers had previously been pumping out, and grazing her teeth over Casey’s clit.

“Fuck… oh… fuck…”

The curse word has never sounded more beautiful to Alex’s ears, and she can’t help but smirk against Casey. She drags her tongue through her folds one last time, before capturing the sensitive bundle of nerves between her lips, and sucking gently. Casey’s hips buck off the mattress, just as Alex slides her fingers back inside, hard, licking and sucking and nibbling as she does so. On the third stroke of her fingers, she curls against Casey, and the redhead comes crumbling down around her, gasping and muttering unintelligibly, Alex still slowly moving her fingers, coaxing her down, watching her face now, intently.

As soon as Casey’s eyes drift open, Alex lets her tongue run over her one more time, enjoying the way Casey’s hips twitch and spasm underneath her.

“You have to… be the best at… everything, don’t you?” Casey pants out, chest heaving, and Alex can’t help but laugh, pressing her face against Casey’s knee, kissing the soft flesh of her thigh, before crawling back up her body.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” she asks, smiling wickedly, just as Casey loops her arms around her neck, drawing her closer.

“Okay” Casey mumbles against her lips.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for falling off the face of the earth!! I hope this new chapter makes up for it, though it may not be where you’re hoping this story to go.... :) hahahaha I’m nothing if not consistent. This chapter is dedicated to Sophie, for telling me this is her favourite, and basically giving me a kick up the ass to work on it.

It’s beginning to get light outside by the time they call it a night. Alex is still trying to catch her breath when Casey excuses herself to use the en-suite bathroom, taking the top layer of sheets with her, wrapped around herself as if Alex hasn’t spent the last few hours exploring her naked body. And god did they explore. For somebody who didn’t seem very sure of herself to begin with, Casey had certainly known what she was doing. Alex can’t help but smile to herself, turning onto her side to look at clock on her nightstand, sighing at the time. Her alarm is set to go off in three hours, and she has a long day in court to look forward to, on very little sleep. Not that she’s complaining.

When Casey emerges from the bathroom, she looks awkward, still wrapped in the sheet, her hair up in a messy ponytail, her face unreadable in the dark. She stands there in the doorway for a long moment, unmoving

“Come back to bed,” Alex says, sleepily.

Casey’s mouth twitches into a half-smile, and then she does as she’s told, climbing into bed behind Alex, hesitating before moving closer. They fall asleep only just touching. It’s the most content Alex has been in a long time.

When her alarm goes off, it feels like being awoken from a nap, not a proper sleep, like maybe Alex only closed her eyes for ten minutes. She turns it off quickly, so as not to wake Casey, and slips into the en suite for a shower. She lets the water run hot, her body unsurprisingly achey from the night before’s rigorous activities, her hair a tangled, knotty mess before she conditions it. She takes longer than usual, and when she steps out, she takes a moment to inspect herself in the mirror, noticing right away a dark bruise on her jaw-line that will need to be covered up with make-up, a few others on her chest that should be hidden by clothes. Alex can’t help but smirk at her reflection. She’s a grown woman, and she's acting like a teenager.

She blow-dries her hair in the bathroom, and, wrapped in a fluffy towel, quickly does her make-up. As far as she knows, Casey isn’t due in court today. She might as well get as much sleep as possible - sleep off the inevitable hangover. Once she’s satisfied that she looks more like she’s slept, and the love bite on her throat isn’t noticeable, Alex tip-toes back into the bedroom.

She needn’t have been so quiet, it turns out.

The bed’s empty. Alex feels her heart sink, even before she goes through to the hallway, and sees the clothes gone from the floor, the whole apartment empty and quiet. It’s as if Casey was never there at all.

Maybe she does have court this morning, after all, Alex reasons. Maybe she was woken by Alex’s alarm and panicked, realising she needed to leave, shower, get fresh clothes, but Alex wasn’t there to say goodbye to. Maybe she’d called into the bathroom but Alex hadn’t heard her over the sound of the water running, or the hair-dryer.

Or maybe, this had all been a horrible mistake and Casey had taken her first available opportunity to leave and pretend it hadn’t happened before she had to face Alex.

It shouldn’t hurt, but it does. Alex lets out a heavy sigh, running her fingers through her hair, and returning to the bedroom to get dressed. She has a case to win. She’ll deal with feeling later.

-

Court isn’t the distraction Alex had hoped it would be. They’ve only made it through one witness when the defence calls for a recess, and the judge grants it. It’s not even lunch time. It’s a clean cut case, and the recess is clearly a stalling tactic, but it’s not that which is playing on Alex’s mind. And that’s troubling in itself. She’s always been so efficient at separating her personal life from her work life, never letting one affect the other. It’s part of what makes her such a great lawyer. But now, when she should be focussing on a case, she can’t stop thinking about the redhead who shared her bed the night before. She hasn’t seen Casey this morning. She doesn’t even know if she’s at work. The temptation to drop by her office is only outweighed by how awkward the conversation has the potential to be.

Instead, Alex decides to call in on her detectives. There’s nothing more she can do to prepare for court - even on three hours sleep, she’d delivered an opening statement she was proud of - and she always likes to stay ahead of the game with new cases. Besides, they’ll want an update of how things are going on the Samuels case. Even if that update is that nothing much is happening at all.

When she arrives, most of the squad are out. There’s no new case up on the board, and the unit is suspiciously quiet. Fin looks up from a mountain of paperwork, and quirks an eyebrow at her.

“You an’ Novak have got some explainin’ to do about last night,” he teases, leaning back in his chair.

Alex swallows. The details from the night before are hazy, but she doesn’t think they’d have done anything inappropriate where people could see them. That’s not something she’d do, and she really wasn’t that drunk.

“I thought you were raised better than to disappear without sayin’ goodbye,” Fin says, with a twinkle in his eye.

Chuckling nervously, Alex nods, relieved. “Well, the birthday girl had a little too much to drink…”

“She ain’t the only one,” Fin agrees, gesturing across to his partner, who appears to be fast asleep with her face on the desk. Either that, or she’s hiding from the bright overhead lights. Either option seems reasonable. “Hope Casey’s fairin’ better than she is.”

“I haven’t seen her since I put her in a cab last night,” Alex tells him, surprised by how easily the lie slips out. Then again, she is a lawyer.

If Fin suspects anything, he doesn’t let it show.

“Where is everybody today, anyway? New case?” Alex continues, glancing around the squad room.

Fin chuckles, “you think Goldilocks over there’d be bein’ left alone if there was?” he again gestures to Rollins, “nah, Liv and Amaro are out followin’ up some stuff for the McClean trial. Nothin’ but paperwork comin’ my way.”

Not recognising the name, Alex guesses it must be from Casey’s docket. They’ve both been so busy lately, they don’t go over each other’s cases the way they used to when they first started sharing the workload. She wonders if it’s related to the argument Casey was having on the phone the day before.

Regardless, this clearly isn’t working to distract her from Casey either.

Alex sighs, “well, let me know if anything comes up. I’ve got a quiet day - the Samuels case has gone into recess.”

Fin raises his eyebrows, “already? Thought it was only startin’ today?”

“Yep. Stalling tactic. I was surprised when the judge agreed, but apparently a family member of the defendant has taken ill. Didn’t seem worth arguing against, it’s such an open-and-close case.”

“Probably should’a thought of his poor Nana before he started sleepin’ with 14 year olds,” Amanda grumbles from her side of the desk, her voice thick and gravely, and Alex can’t help but scrunch up her face, barely biting back a laugh.

“Glad to have you back with us, Detective Rollins,” she teases, as the blonde blearily sits up, “rough night?”

“Nothin’ I can’t handle,” Amanda says, wincing at the brightness of the room.

Remembering last night, and how jealous Alex had become over Amanda getting even the slightest amount of Casey’s attention, Alex can’t help but blush slightly, trying to shake the thought out of her mind. It had been ridiculous, and she can only blame it on the alcohol. Besides, she’s fond of the detective. And it wasn’t Amanda who Casey had chosen to go home with.

That’s another thought she needs to bury.

“Good to hear it,” she says, instead, then turns back to Fin, “give me a call if there is anything.”

“If I don’t drown in paperwork in the meantime,” he agrees, and this time she does laugh, as she leaves, throwing the two detectives a wave over her shoulder.

-

Alex spends the rest of the day catching up on her own paperwork. It’s tedious and barely does anything to stop her mind drifting to Casey, but there’s not much else to do. She’d expected to be in court all day, after all. She leaves her office door open, in the hopes that she might catch a glimpse of red hair, the familiar click of heels and long-legged strides as she moves down the corridor. But Casey never makes an appearance.

It’s late by the time Alex decides to call it a night. She doesn’t want to admit to herself that the only thing keeping her in the office so late was the chance of encountering Casey, but it’s so glaringly obvious. For the last half hour, she does nothing but reorganise her desk, lifting her eyes to the doorway each and every time she hears footprints passing by. Eventually, enough is enough, and she gives in, packing her attaché, pulling her coat on, and heading out to the elevator. She doesn’t want to go back to her empty flat, her bed that still smells of Casey, but she can’t put it off any longer.

As she waits for the elevator, footsteps round the corner, and she glances up, expecting to offer only a wry smile to a colleague whose caseload has kept them late. She feels her heart race in her chest as her gaze meets familiar gold coloured eyes.

“Alex,” Casey murmurs, coming to a stop next to her but not close. She sounds exhausted.

“That was an impressive disappearing act this morning,” Alex says, immediately regretting the bitter tone that laces her words when she sees the look on Casey’s face.

“I’m sorry, I can explain...” she starts, but the explanation is not forthcoming. In the meantime, the elevator comes; but neither of them board it. The doors close.

“I get it,” Alex says, acting the tough guy, her chin tilted up, “you don’t have to say anything else. It never happened.”

Continuing to fiddle awkwardly with the leather strap of her bag, Casey chews on her bottom lip, suddenly looking much more like the Casey that only Alex ever seems to notice. The anxious lawyer who spent three years out of the game and is still terrified she’s gonna fuck up. For everyone else, she’s confident and bulshy and can talk herself out of anything. Alex thinks she prefers this Casey. But maybe that’s because she’s saved only for her. She sags, suddenly feeling guilty for being so blunt with her.

“It’s not like that,” Casey says in a small voice, “It was... i drank too much, made a fool of myself. It was a lapse in judgement.”

_So it is like that_ , Alex thinks. She knows she’s going to have to put any feelings she’s been harbouring for Casey aside, and be the bigger person. Much as she hates that, at least office flings, no strings attached, is something she has experience in, something she knows how to deal with.

“We’re both adults - unattached adults at that,” she says, adopting a more casual tone, “I had fun. If that’s all it was then great. I don’t regret it. You didn’t make a fool of yourself any more than I did. We can pretend it didn’t happen if it helps us to remain professional with one another.”

Casey’s expression is unreadable as she troubles her bottom lip with her teeth, not looking at Alex. Her shoulders relax, though. Alex knows she shouldn’t be disappointed, but she is. She’s just not used to being on the other side of this situation.

“Okay,” Casey says, carefully. She reaches for the elevator button, at the same time as Alex, and their fingers brush just quickly before Casey pulls away.

When the doors open, Alex let’s her go ahead. They’re silent the whole ride down to the ground floor, Alex having to force herself to look straight ahead. When she does risk a glance at the redhead’s profile, she immediately regrets it. Her bone structure is truly something to be marvelled at - she’d noticed that before she noticed anything else about her. That gorgeous jawline, and the cut of her cheekbones, with such strong, prominent features. Alex could get lost imagining all the places she’d kissed along that face last night, all the places she wanted to kiss her but now never would. She’d been captivated by the space under Casey’s ear, right where her jaw swept upwards. She’s surprised she hadn’t left a mark.

The elevator reaching the ground floor with a “ding!” as the doors open drags Alex out of her thoughts and back to reality. They walk out in unison. When they pass the front desk, Alex holds the door open, and Casey visibly hesitates before going through.

“Did you drive in?” Alex asks, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets.

“I... no. I got a cab.”

Of course. She probably came from Alex’s apartment and didn’t know where she was going. She’s wearing a different outfit - a pencil dress that the old Casey would never have been caught dead in, but it looks chic and professional on Casey 2.0 - with the same shoes as last night. Her make-up is fresh, but her hair’s pulled back into a ponytail, which is unusual. Alex wonders if she keeps clothes in the office just in case. She doesn’t look like she’s been home.

Alex hesitates. It’s probably a bad idea but...

“You want a lift home? Save you a taxi fare.”

Casey’s expression falters, momentarily. This is the moment where they decide if they can go back to normal or not, Alex thinks. She stops breathing for a second, which feels like forever, waiting for Casey to choose.

“Okay, sure,” Casey agrees, and Alex almost heaves a sigh of relief.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to Maddie for helping me work on this chapter, and to all of you for reading/reviewing etc. Sorry this update is well overdue and a little short. I think there’s probably only going to be a couple more to finish off this story.

Alex doesn’t get much time to dwell over their awkward car journey; the next morning she’s hit by a messy, high-profile case, set to bring half of the DA’s office down with it. It’s all hands on deck. Except for Casey, who is left to balance the majority of their shared caseload by herself. Before Alex knows what’s happening, the case has eaten through the whole of October, and half of November too, and she can count how many times she’s even seen Casey in the last six weeks on one hand.

Which is why, when someone arrives at her apartment at 2am, the weekend after Thanksgiving, Casey’s the last person Alex expects.

She hasn’t quite gone to sleep yet, but she is in bed when she hears the buzzer, reading over closing statement drafts for the following day. For a moment, she considers ignoring it, but then she realises that if her doorman has let whoever it is in, it must be important. She slips out of bed, pulls her silk robe on, and pads out into the hallway, rubbing at her eyes underneath her glasses.

It doesn’t take an elite squad of detectives to realise Casey’s drunk. She’s swaying slightly, and she starts speaking - unintentionally loudly - as soon as Alex opens the door, lurching into her personal space as she crosses the threshold.

“I really hate you,” Casey announces, prodding a digit at Alex.

“Good to see you too, Novak,” Taking a step back, Alex frowns, flinching as her front door slams.

“Don’t gi’me that bullshit, Alex. You know what you’ve caused? How many years of work you’ve undone? Of course you do. You and that stupid mouth—- god I hate your mouth. I hate that I can’t stop thinking abou— I mean, You did it on purpose. You can’t just be mediocre at anything! Always have to be the best! It’s not a fucking competition and yet you still... stop fucking looking at me like that.”

In honesty, Alex can’t imagine what the expression on her face is reading like: some kind of weird mix of amusement and complete bafflement, with a nervous energy buzzing beneath the surface. She can feel her heart thudding in her chest as she begins to realise where Casey is going with this little outburst, not least of all because she’s sure half her neighbours are overhearing it. But Casey doesn’t give her a chance to move into a more private part of the apartment, or even get a word in edgeways, so it’s a lost cause trying to question her. She instead attempts a neutral face but that just causes Casey to groan louder.

“I’m a fully grown adult I shouldn’t be acting like a horny teenager and yet... I just thought if I scratched the itch it’d go away. But it’s worse. You made me worse!”

Alex can’t help the giddy feeling that’s rising in her with every word Casey rambles. Maybe sober they aren’t on the same page at all - or at least maybe that’s what Casey wants her to think - but drunk... and what is she doing getting this drunk on a Sunday night? Alex knows from experience that Casey most often drinks when a case is going south, but as far as she knows, the two cases she’s currently working on are both looking good at the moment.

“What?” Casey says, animatedly raising her eyebrows, and when Alex doesn’t immediately respond - mostly because she has no idea what to say - Casey dramatically throws her arms in the air, agitated, scoffing at Alex.

“You’re drunk, and experience tells me that you being in my apartment, drunk, doesn’t end well,” Alex eventually says, measuredly. She doesn’t want to send Casey away, but she also doesn’t want to dig this ditch between them any deeper.

Casey nods, leaning her arm heavily against the hallway wall, looking at the floor instead of Alex, “yeah, that’s an understatement.”

“Case, go home. Sleep it off. We can forget this ever—“

Snapping her head up to look at her, Casey let’s out a hollow laugh, cutting her off. “Forget?! I can’t! That’s the problem!! I’ll be sitting there in court, watching you, and I’ll end up staring at your mouth or at your legs or... whatever. And it’s so fucking distracting, knowing what you’re capable of... and... fuck, Alex just STOP IT.”

Whatever ‘it’ is, Alex can’t seem to stop it because as far as she’s aware she’s not doing anything, but Casey is staring at her, and before she knows what’s happening, the inebriated mess that is her colleague is reaching for her, and when her mouth finds Alex’s, it’s hot and hungry. Alex is wary - she knows she shouldn’t take advantage of Casey being drunk, but god it’s hard to walk away when every inch of her is burning under Casey’s touch - enjoying the kiss momentarily, before softly pushing Casey away.

Alex stares at her, her eyes trying to read Casey’s. Her pupils are blown, her eyes dark and soft, and Alex wants so much to just forget about how much of a bad idea this is and just do it, the way Casey’s looking at her making her want it all the more. But she knows that salvaging their friendship, whatever is left of it, even if that means only working together and nothing more, is more important. She quietly takes another step back, until her back is pressed against the opposite wall.

“We shouldn’t do this again,” Alex murmurs, closing her eyes, leaning her head back against the cool surface of the wall, “you’re only going to regret it in the morning. I’m sorry. I really am. If you think I’ve done this on purpose, or that I took advantage of you in September... I’m sorry.”

Casey shakes her head, and all at once her bravado shatters and she starts to cry. Thrown off guard, Alex doesn’t know how to react for what seems like the hundredth time this evening. She hasn’t seen Casey cry before. She’s never been good at people showing emotion; mostly because her parents never did. It’s one thing when it’s a victim, but when it’s Casey... she sighs, awkwardly moving closer to her, tentatively putting her hand on Casey’s shoulder but pulling away when the redhead flinches.

“Great. Now I’m crying. In front of the great Alexandra the great. Perfect. Wonderful. Great.”

Sighing, Alex dips to try and meet Casey’s eyes, but she’s purposely looking away, “hey... hey, come on. You know I’m not all that great. I’m just... me.”

Casey scoffs, wiping away her tears messily and eventually looking at her. She frowns, and Alex catches another glimpse of the broken woman Casey Novak spends so much time pretending not to be. It’s just like on that first day, struggling to carry all her belongings, but refusing help. It’s intense. There’s so much that Alex wants to say but she can’t find the words.

“You have no idea what you’re capable of, do you?” Casey murmurs, shaking her head, looking away again. The moment is over. She sounds remarkably sober when she speaks again. “I have spent so long trying not to feel like this and one touch from you and I... god. Alex I wish I could go back to resenting you. I really do. It would make everything so much less complicated.”

“I don’t want that,” Alex tells her in a small voice.

“Nor do I.” Shes biting her lip and Alex can’t stop herself from staring. It’s a habit of hers that never stops being alluring even if she isn’t meaning it to. “But I can’t do this. I just think... it would be better to not be around you. That way I can keep pretending...”

Suddenly, Alex gets it. And she feels stupid for not realising before now, but it hadn’t even factored in at all, it seemed so unlikely... she exhales deeply, “i didn’t realise,” she admits, “I always thought... I mean, everyone always said...” she trails off, afraid to say exactly what she means.

But Casey understands all the same.

She laughs dryly, "I'm Catholic, Alex," she says, softly, "my parents are still waiting for me to get married and pop out a bunch of kids like the rest of my sisters. Me getting suspended was the best thing to ever happen to them. They thought I might finally settle down.”

“They don’t know you very well, then,” Alex says, with a wry smile, grateful when Casey smiles back, even if her eyes are still wet with tears.

“I guess I don’t know _myself_ very well. Or I’ve been lying to myself. You’d think three years of it would have taught me that drinking doesn’t solve anything.”

“You seem remarkably sober now, in comparison to when you showed up here.”

Casey lets out a peel of laughter, “yeah, well you have that effect on me, it turns out.” Her cheeks are flushed, and Alex is sure hers must be too. Here they are, dancing around each other again. This should be the part where Alex makes some kind of cheesy joke, asks if there’s some other effect she has on Casey, but this isn’t a rom com movie, and she doesn’t want to push. It’s bad enough they’re even having this conversation.

The air between them is suddenly thick with awkward tension again, and Alex clears her throat, though she doesn’t really know what to say, dragging her gaze away from Casey.

“I’m sor-“  
“I shou-“

They laugh, awkwardly, and Alex gestures for Casey to go first.

“I was just going to say I should go before I make a fool of myself any more than I already have.”

“You haven’t,” Alex insists, leaving her apology unsaid.

“Don’t be polite, Cabot. I showed up here three sheets to the wind and yelled at you, then kissed you. I’m a mess.”

Alex laughs, “I kind of love that about you,” she says, tensing as she realises how that wording came out, and wincing. But Casey doesn’t say anything.

“Night, Alex,” she says, quietly.

“Goodnight, Case.”

And just like that, she’s gone again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for once again disappearing. I hope this slightly longer (and hopefully slightly more satisfying??) chapter makes up for my absence. Who doesn't love Christmas in the middle of July? I think this story has maybe one more chapter in it. Thank you for bearing with me.

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, Alex becomes incredibly stressed. Not just because her workload is heavy to accommodate for the out of court public holidays, but also because Christmas is... well, stressful. Or perhaps she’s making it unnecessarily so. Almost definitely.

The main stress isn’t about going home to family for the holidays (she doesn’t have any, really), or wrapping up cases before the new year. It isn’t even really about buying gifts... she’s an excellent gift-buyer and not just because of the size of her bank account. It’s just... well, it’s Casey. Of course it is.

Alex sighs, setting down the case files she’s been looking over (and not reading properly) and once again glancing at her phone. She shouldn’t call. She has no reason to disturb Casey, not even a flimsy excuse for conversation. She could walk down the hall, just in case... but that would be perturbing too. She and Casey are in this weird place where they’re talking to each other without actually saying anything, and barely seeing each other, the majority of their shared work being attended to via email. It’s... uncomfortable. The strain between them feels obvious.

She misses her.

Aside from being in witness protection, Alex has very little experience of missing anything or anyone, so the realisation that that’s what this is hits her like a punch to the gut. She keeps trying to shrug the feeling off. She keeps telling herself that she’s the wrong side of 25 to be having such childish feelings, but, there’s no denying the way her heart flips when she catches a glimpse of red hair disappearing around a corner a moment too late, or the way her breath gets caught in her throat when she hears Casey’s voice, always directed at somebody else, not her. It’s honestly kind of pathetic. She’s always prided herself on not being one of those women... and yet here she is.

Not that she’s in love with Casey. It isn’t like that. It’s just... she misses her. She misses the way they used to bounce off of each other perfectly, their idle banter and gentle prodding at one another. She misses how great of a team they made in the court room, how they were almost always on the same wavelength without even having to communicate it.

And yeah, she misses that sweet spot bellow Casey’s ear, and the feel of her milky, smooth skin against Alex’s own, and the taste of her, the sound of her... it might have only been one night, but Alex can’t quite seem to let go of it.

She drags her eyes away from the phone and hesitantly slides open the top drawer of her desk instead, poking around until she uncovers a plain navy box. Swallowing, she absent-mindedly drags her finger over it, tracing the gold embossed lettering. She could open it, but it won’t have changed from the last twenty times she’s looked at it. Sighing, she pushes the drawer closed again.

It’s a bad idea. It was a bad idea when she bought it, and she’d been wholly aware of that, yet somehow unable to leave it behind once she’d seen it. It’s too much for a gift for a friend, let alone for somebody who is barely talking to you. But it’s perfect. Alex had seen it and thought only of Casey. She’d only slightly hesitated before buying it, but as soon as she was out of the store she’d realised how stupid it was.

If you can’t hold a conversation with somebody, you definitely shouldn’t be buying them a $500 Christmas gift.

She wishes she had somebody to talk to. A week ago, she and Olivia had gone for coffee, stopped off in the park for a long while to talk. It had been nice, spending some quality time with one of the only people who she entrusted with her insecurities, but it hadn’t been enough. The subject she really needed to vent about was right there on the tip of her tongue, but she knew she couldn’t mention it. Once upon a time, she and Liv might have been in a position to discuss their personal lives in that amount of detail but... not any more. Especially not when it involved one of their colleagues, somebody who Olivia would have to see regularly, and pretend not to know anything about. That wouldn’t be fair on Liv, and it wouldn’t be fair on Casey either.

There’s only so long she can go on like this, though.

Sighing, Alex lays her hand on the phone, flexes her fingers as if to pick up the receiver, and then thinks better of it. What’s she supposed to say? _Oh hey, Casey, I know it’s been months and we’re supposed to be over this, but I can’t stop thinking about you and I needed to hear your voice? Remember that time you came to my apartment and kissed me and we agreed never to speak of it again? Yeah, I can’t stop thinking about it and I’d like to do that again, please._

No, calling her is out of the question.

Underneath her hand, the phone starts to ring, and Alex almost jumps out of her seat in surprise, fumbling uncharacteristically for the receiver.

“Hello?”

She knows it’s unreasonable to expect it to be Casey, but she can’t help but feel disappointed when it isn’t.

-

Suddenly, it’s Christmas Eve and the box is still in Alex’s desk drawer. She has no Christmas plans, having turned down dinner with an uncle she hasn’t seen in over a year, and made no effort to make arrangements with anybody else. Christmas at the Cabots’ used to be a grand affair, despite Alex being an only child, but since losing her parents, she can’t stomach the idea of spending it with distant relatives, most of which she hasn’t seen since her return from the dead. 

She suspects Christmas will consist of this: takeout for one, several glasses of red wine, and maybe It’s A Wonderful Life on the television. If she can stand it.

She gets the usual gifts from the department: a hamper of luxury chocolate and fruit, with bottles of expensive wine and a cheese board. A poinsettia sits in her office, courtesy of her assistant, Alex being too polite not to keep it. She doesn’t expect anything else.

So, the rectangle of shiny green paper that’s waiting for her on her desk when she returns from a late meeting, only heading back to the office to collect her things and head home, catches her off guard. It doesn’t have a tag, only a matching ribbon, and Alex almost doesn’t open it. Almost. Something in her chest goes tight and she knows it’s irrational but... could it be? No. It almost definitely isn’t, but what if it _is_.

Trying to steel herself for disappointment, Alex carefully slides open the wrapping, taking her time, not ripping the paper. On top of the item - she sees, now, that it’s a book - is a folded over slip of paper, which she opens out.

Her breath catches in her throat as she immediately recognises the handwriting.

Found this and was reminded of you. Happy holidays.  
Miss you.  
C x

She folds the note neatly back in half and moves it to one side. When Alex finally realises what the gift is, she can’t help but laugh, even though she feels like she might cry, all the pent up emotion of the last few weeks hitting her head-on, much to her embarrassment. She opens the front cover, flips through illustrated pages, and closes it again, running her thumb over the image on the cover of the book, and finally making a decision.

Casey’s assistant isn’t at her desk. The door is closed, and it’s impossible to tell whether the lights are on, whether anyone is inside. Most of the building is deserted, everybody already on their way home for the holidays, so it’s a slim chance that the room is occupied. A slim chance, which Alex knows she has to take.

She knocks. There’s no immediate response, and her heart sinks. Should she knock again or just give in, accept that Casey isn’t in? Alex doesn’t know what she was expecting anyway. The holidays don’t usually turn her into a sentimental optimist; she’s never believed in Christmas miracles or any of that garbage. But something about opening that gift...

“Hey, you,” a voice says, soft and familiar behind her.

Alex spins around so fast she thinks she might have given herself whiplash, but it’s worth it for the throaty chuckle that erupts from Casey. She’s dressed casually, a green sweater and well-fitting jeans replacing her office attire, her hair loose around her shoulders. She’s breathtaking. Alex feels that same knot in her stomach tighten as she drinks her in, this woman who has never been more than a few miles away from her - a few yards away in the same building - but who she hasn’t seen - not really seen - in weeks.

“Casey,” she says, hoarsely, before clearing her throat. “I... wasn’t sure if you’d left already. I got your gift.”

Blushing, Casey looks away from her, down at her shoes. She’s wearing sneakers instead of heels. It makes her a few inches shorter than Alex. “It’s lame. I just... the jersey you got me...”

“I love it,” Alex says, smiling, “that Casey... he’s pretty handsome. Love the moustache.”

Casey laughs melodically, and their eyes meet again, and for a second Alex forgets how to breathe. She’s a grown woman. She shouldn’t be behaving like this. Anybody who knows her would laugh in disbelief if they thought she was capable of such childish behaviour, Alexandra Cabot who is always in control, the Ice Queen, emotionless. As if she’s ever been emotionless. She just doesn’t wear her heart on her sleeve... or at least she didn’t used to.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything,” Alex lies, thinking of the box in her drawer, far too extravagant a gift to give in return.

Casey shrugs her off, “it’s okay... it wasn’t a gift so much as an excuse to offer you an olive branch.”

“You could have done that in person.”

Sinking her teeth into her bottom lip, Casey nods, looking uncomfortable. It vaguely registers in Alex’s head that this is the longest they’ve been alone together since the night Casey drunkenly kissed her in her apartment, and she doesn’t know what to do with that information.

“I wasn’t sure you’d want me to,” she admits, “the way we left things wasn’t exactly… comfortable.”

It might have been easier if they’d left things on a blazing row, but they hadn’t. Casey had said she was better off not spending time around Alex… well, Alex had tried to honour that, by withdrawing from her. It had never occurred to her that it might come across as if _she_ wanted nothing to do with Casey either.

“Of course I wanted you to,” she tells her, gently, hesitantly reaching to touch her. She strokes her shoulder, and she expects Casey to flinch, to pull back, but she doesn’t. Her palm rests on Casey’s elbow. Alex rubs her thumb over the soft knit of her sweater, wishing it was her skin.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” Casey’s voice wavers, her eyes darting away from Alex’s again.

“I haven’t, either.”

She lifts her chin, just slightly, making eye contact, teeth worrying her bottom lip again. Alex can’t help but glance at her mouth, before meeting her eyes. She wants to kiss her. 

It’s a bad idea.

“I wish this wasn’t so hard,” Casey murmurs, “I’m not usually like this. I usually know what I want, and I know how to get it. What steps I have to take. I’m not usually so afraid.”

“I know,” Alex tells her. She lets go of her elbow, lifts her hand up into Casey’s hair, the other brushing the redhead’s waist before falling to Alex’s side. Casey instinctively leans her face into the touch. “What do you want?”

Casey hums, all unresolved tension and buzzing electricity. She’s teetering over the cliff’s edge, Alex can see that in her eyes, but she doesn’t quite know which way she’s going to go. Being so close to her, after so long… Alex thinks she might explode from the want. She doesn’t know if she’ll be able to just walk away. If that’s what Casey wants, she’ll do it, but she’s not convinced it won’t destroy her.

“What do you want?” she repeats, softer, stroking Casey’s face, then letting go.

Casey looks up at her, eyes wide and dark and wet, and Alex can feel every single breath in her body waiting for a response. Their faces are so close now. She doesn’t remember moving so close, is only relieved that nobody else is around.

“You,” Casey whispers, then, again, more sure of herself, “I want you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is, the last chapter of this one. I hope it’s a satisfying ending. It’s taken me a while to get it how I want it and even so I’m not 100% sure I nailed exactly what a I wanted to end with, but staring at it isn’t helping. Thank you so much for all your love and support and comments it means everything.

It takes everything she’s got not to lean in and kiss her, there and then, but she knows there’s a security camera in the hallway, so Alex stops herself. Only barely. She gestures for Casey’s office door, and the redhead nods, though she looks unsure of herself. Alex pushes the door open, holds it for her, and closes it behind them.

Casey stands there, a foot away from the door, chewing on her bottom lip. She looks so hesitant that for a moment Alex really thinks she might change her mind, tell Alex to leave. She’s not sure her heart will be able to take it. There’s barely any space between them, and Alex easily closes the gap, lifting her hand to Casey’s face again, as she had done outside. Casey turns her face, pressing the ghost of a kiss into Alex’s palm, then sighing.

“If we’re going to do this,” Alex murmurs, moving her other hand to cup the back of Casey’s head, “you have to be certain. I can’t stay here, working in the same building as you, if you change your mind again. I don’t think I have it in me.”

She watches the muscles in Casey’s throat contract as she swallows, hard, then searches her eyes for an answer that the redhead hasn’t vocalised yet. The office is dim without the lights switched on, but she feels like she can see every flicker of thought in Casey’s head, every minuscule move of her features. It feels like she holds her breath for minutes at a time, before she eventually lets her hands drop from Casey’s head, to her shoulders.

“It’s okay,” she says, even though the lump in the back of her throat, the way her voice sounds stunted, forced, proves that it isn’t.

“Al—“

She shakes her head, squeezing Casey’s shoulders, and then letting go. She’s still sandwiched against the door, unable to leave, and Casey’s body is so close to her, heat radiating off her... it’s suddenly overwhelming and Alex has to close her eyes. It was stupid to think she could do this. Stupid to think that Casey might ever be willing to risk anything to be with her. Sure, she’d always been able to have any man she wanted (and a fair few women too), but it was egotistical of her to think she would be enough to sway Casey, after everything she knew about her.

Alex opens her mouth to say as much, but the words are swallowed as Casey’s lips find hers in the dark. Unlike any of the times they’ve kissed before, this kiss is passionate, but gentle. There is no clashing of teeth, no desperation. Casey kisses her in a way that feels like she’s trying to tell Alex a secret, trying to explain something she can’t put into words, and after a second of surprise, standing motionless, Alex reciprocates. It isn’t desperate, or needy. They don’t fight for dominance like they had that drunken night in September, and it isn’t lip-bruising. It’s... sweet. Breathtaking in a whole other sense of the word.

Casey pulls back, her breathing heavier, and only a tiny trace of doubt still left in her eyes.

“I want to do this. I’m scared - terrified, actually - but that doesn’t change the way I know I feel about you.”

Alex’s eyes drift again to her mouth, then back to her eyes, glistening and dark. She’s known for a while that this wasn’t just about getting her, admittedly stunning, colleague into bed. If it had been, she would have called it a day after she’d succeeded the first time. No, she knows it’s more than that, that feelings had begun to develop even before their first encounter. But seeing it laid out in front of her, Casey admitting that it isn’t just raw lust between them, assuming that’s what she means... she has to admit that that is scary for her too. That isn’t what Alex usually signs up for when it comes to sex.

“And how do you feel?” she asks, her voice barely audible.

Casey continues to search her eyes, frowning slightly. Her tongue swipes across her bottom lip, before she bites down on it again. The tension between them is palpable, and she’s willing Casey not to back down, not now.

“I feel like I want you to kiss me,” she murmurs, eventually, her voice low.

Alex leans into her, tilting her chin, and capturing her lips in a soft kiss. Casey sighs against her. It spurs her on, deepening the kiss, but staying gentle. Eventually, she pulls away, tilting her head back against the door and closing her eyes. She can feel Casey watching her, can practically see the nervous energy dancing through the redhead’s body, so close to her own, though not quite touching. Casey moves backward, away from her, perching on the edge of her desk. After a moment, she sighs.

“It was naive of me to think that avoiding you was going to magically stop me from thinking about you.”

Opening her eyes, Alex fights the urge to move back towards her, to kiss her again. As tempting as it is to distract her, she knows Casey needs to work through this, that they have absolutely no chance of any kind of relationship if they won’t vocalise their feelings for each other. They need to be on the same page for any of this to work.

“All it did was make me miss you. I don’t... I haven’t been with anyone in a long time. You don’t need to pretend to act surprised; I know everyone in the building thinks I’m asexual. It took a long time for me to recover from the last time somebody broke my heart.”

“That’s what you’re scared of?” Alex says around a lump beginning to form in her throat, “you’re afraid I’ll break your heart?”

Casey frowns, her cheeks suddenly colouring, “I-no no. I know that isn’t what this is... it’s just supposed to be fun I didn’t mean t—“

Alex moves to her, stopping her with a finger across her lips, “I can’t make you a promise that I won’t hurt you, I’m not willing to make a promise I can’t keep. I’m not good at this. I don’t date. My relationship history is... non-existent really. I am more of a one night stand kind of woman, a ‘take a handsome friend as a date for a charity event because we’ve screwed a couple of times’ kind of woman. But... what I am beginning to feel for you is way beyond carnal desire. That’s not what I’m interested in.”

When Casey doesn’t say anything, despite Alex pulling her finger away, she continues.

“I’m not good at putting feelings into words, Casey. If I were, maybe this would be easier for you to understand. I know that sounds ludicrous. I’m supposed to be good at persuasive language. I’m not. Not when it comes to admitting how I feel. But... I missed you. I’ve missed you, in all capacities. So much so that it’s throwing me off my work.”

“Oh.” Casey finally whispers, her eyebrows still knitted together. 

“It was never just a drunken tryst for me. I went along with that because you weren’t interested in pursuing it any further and I thought it would save face. I was - I am - too invested in our friendship to throw it away over unrequited feelings.”

The look of confusion on Casey’s face evens out into embarrassment, and then something else. The quick succession of expressions is almost comical. If Alex hadn’t already been sure that what she feels for Casey is more than just attraction, that look solidifies it.

“I guess we’ve both been pretty oblivious, huh?” Casey says, eventually, looking up at her.

“For two intelligent women, we can be pretty dense,” Alex agrees, although she’s still not completely sure they’re on the same page.

Laughing softly, Casey nods, tracing a pattern absently against her desk, “so what do we do now?”

Alex watches her, the silence between them heavy, before she slips her glasses from her face, closing them gently, leaning across Casey to put them onto her desk. Her forearm brushes against Casey’s shoulder, and she shivers at the brief moment of contact. Letting go of the glasses, she rests her palm over the cold cherrywood desk top and leans into Casey, until her mouth is right next to the redhead’s ear.

“Now, we make up for lost time,” she murmurs, and when Casey turns her head, their lips touch in a kiss that is neither gentle, nor sweet.

-

When Alex wakes up, it takes her a solid ten minutes to realise a.) where she is and b.) that she isn’t alone. A further ten minutes or so later, she suddenly remembers the date. December 25th. Christmas Day.

She doesn’t remember what time they got in to Casey’s apartment, just that it was late. They’d waited an obscenely long time for a taxi, during which the reality of what was happening between them had really sunk in. For the first time in a long time, Alex had felt genuinely content. Happy, even.

Rolling carefully onto her side, she gazes down at Casey, sprawled on the other half of the bed, one leg outside of the sheets, one arm tucked under her head, hair spilling across a dark grey pillow. She looks peaceful, despite her splayed limbs. It’s a sight Alex could get used to waking up to regularly.

Sighing, she sits up, pressing a kiss to the redhead’s shoulder, trailing upwards to kiss behind her ear. Much as she’d like to stay here forever, it’s Christmas Day and most normal people - Casey included - have plans with their families, plans which don’t involve having a relative walk in on them naked in bed with another woman.

“Mmf, no,” Casey mumbles, shifting in bed so her head is facing Alex, eyes squinty but open. She smiles when she sees Alex, just slightly, before scrunching her face up, burrowing her nose into Alex’s thigh.

Alex’s fingers dance through Casey’s messy bed hair and she laughs as Casey grumbles again, the noise vibrating against her skin.

“Come on, sleepy, it’s after nine and you have places to be, remember?”

Peeking out from her hiding place, Casey grimaces, “bed warm. Alex in bed. Casey stay in bed.”

Unable to stop herself from laughing out loud, Alex lifts Casey’s head into her lap, kissing her forehead. “Okay, Miss Neanderthal, but I don’t think your parents are going to be thrilled to find Casey in bed with Alex, no matter how warm it is.”

As if she’s been nudged with a warm poker, Casey immediately sits upright, leveraging herself with both hands on Alex’s bare thighs. It sends a bolt of electricity through Alex, but she ignores it, watching as Casey springs out of bed, quickly gathering clothes from where they’ve been flung, cursing under her breath as she steps into clean underwear, searching her overflowing clothes drawers for something to wear.

“Shit,” she groans as she tries to put both legs into the same jeans leg, “there’s no way I’m going to make it over in time. And I should have showered.”

Alex frowns, sliding out of bed and stopping Casey’s crazed movements with a hand on her shoulder. Casey looks at her, wide-eyed, unable to stop her eyes from drifting over her naked body.

“Hey, it’s okay. Call them. Tell them you got held up at work. They’re your parents, Case, they’ll understand.”

Smiling wryly, Casey shakes her head, “no offence, but you don’t know my folks. They’ll have already sent a search party. And grandma... oh god, _Grandma_ , I definitely should have showered I can’t walk into Grandma’s house reeking of sex like some horny teenager.”

Alex braces Casey’s other shoulder, turning her so they’re facing one another. She gently kisses her, and though she can tell Casey’s immediate reaction is to pull away, she doesn’t, eventually softening. Alex leans back.

“Get in the shower,” she directs, “if your cell phone rings, I’ll explain you’re on your way.”

Casey’s eyebrows shoot up and she moves to object.

“I can do a great secretary voice when I have to; trust me.”

Nodding, Casey presses a quick kiss to the corner of Alex’s mouth, and scurries into the bathroom, the shower turning on almost immediately. Alex sinks into the bed with a sigh. She’s not sure how they got here. 24 hours ago they weren’t speaking. Now what? How can she be sure that one day in her family’s presence isn’t going to push Casey straight back into the closet?

Her eyes drift closed and she leans her head back against the wall, rubbing at her temples. She doesn’t remember where she left her glasses, and she’d planned to spend the day going over files for her next case. Grabbing her purse from where she’d dumped it the night before, Alex rummages through it, looking for the brown leather case she keeps her glasses in. Instead, her fingers wrap around something hard and rectangular. It’s only once she pulls it out of her bag that she realises what it is.

The bathroom door opens, and Casey is standing there, wrapped in a towel, but not wet. The shower is off. Alex looks up at her in confusion.

“I don’t think I want to go home,” Casey says, before she can question her.

“It’s Christmas, Case... your parents are expecting you.”

She swallows, visibly, and it’s only then that she looks down at the gift wrapped box in Alex’s lap. Alex follows her eyes down, and frowns, quickly moving to shove it back into her purse, but it’s too late.

“I thought you said you didn’t get me anything,” Casey murmurs, nodding towards the box. There’s no use in lying about it - her name is there on a gift tag, easily visible.

“I... it’s stupid.”

Casey moves towards her, lying her palm flat over Alex’s where she’s holding the box, “may I?”

She hands the box open. Casey slides the paper open, and as she lifts the lid off, Alex feels like all the air is sucked out of the room with it. It really is a stupid gift and she doesn’t know why she’d thought it was a good idea.

“Alex...” Casey’s voice is barely a breath, barely audible.

“It’s too much. I know it’s too much and we weren’t even talking when I... but I saw it and I thought of you and I don’t know wh—-“

“Stop,” Casey tells her, and her eyes are wet, the muscles in her throat and jaw working overtime.

“I’m sorry.”

Gingerly, Casey lifts the item out of its box, running her fingers over the pendant, staring intently at the cluster of unusual looking stones that had first drawn Alex’s eyes to it. She holds the necklace out to Alex.

Fighting past the lump in her throat, Alex reaches for it, “I knew it was too much that it’d scare you away that’s why—-“

“Help me put it on,” Casey asks, turning her back to her. With shaking hands, Alex does as she’s told, missing the fastening a couple of times before finally getting it perfect. She brushes her hands over Casey’s shoulders once she’s done, suddenly terrified that she isn’t going to get to touch her again.

For a long moment they stand there in silence. Alex can feel her pulse thumping through her ears, intensifying with every second that passes, until, finally, Casey turns around to face her.

“I’m going to kiss you, and then I’m going to call my parents, and we’re going to spend the rest of Christmas Day in bed, uninterrupted. Does that sound reasonable to you?”

Alex swallows, “I... yes.”

A second later, Casey is kissing her, pushing her back against the headboard and straddling her. She’s kissing her like she’s never been surer about anything in her life, like she’s memorising every line, every curve of Alex’s body, her hands moving gently, purposefully, skimming over her breasts, down her sides, along her thighs, in a rhythm that’s in sync with the movements of their mouths and tongues and teeth. If she’d thought kissing Casey before was like nothing she could ever have imagined then this... this is out of this world. This isn’t like any kind of kissing Alex has done before, with Casey nuzzling at her, rubbing against her, like every inch of them needs to be connected or they might cease to exist entirely.

Eventually, they pull apart, and they’re panting, the towel somewhere on the floor, Casey knelt between Alex’s legs. She’s so aroused, it’s almost painful, a constant beat pounding through her body as she reaches again for Casey, tangling her hands in messy hair as she brushes it back from her face.

“I... I need a second to call, but I’m coming back,” Casey tells her, reluctantly peeling herself away. She disappears into another room, closing the door behind her.

Alex let’s herself breathe normally. She looks around the bedroom, dishevelled and messy and more lived in than any part of her own apartment, and she sighs, not even bothering to bite back her smile.

In another room, Casey wishes her parents a Merry Christmas, not bothering to give a reason for not coming home, despite their arguments. Her fingers lift to the chain around her neck. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but it doesn’t matter. She’s happy. She’s happy for the first time in as long as she can remember, and she doesn’t care about anything else. She and Alex... well, they have time to figure out the rest.

FIN


End file.
